


The room with white clouds

by Infernium



Series: Self-inserts of the Mad Max World [3]
Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, F/F, F/M, Forced Masturbation, M/M, Masturbation, Misogyny, Multi, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infernium/pseuds/Infernium
Summary: Dingo (Basically a renamed maxie) is a young man who's been treated as and convinced that he's a dog. Slowly, he finds his humanity in the unlikliest of all people.





	1. Metal glass tubes

It was a water day, yes, it must have been. Why else would the grotesque kaleidoscope of the grey, the tattered and the ugly rush to the mouth of the citadel on such a scorching hot day? Many desolate voices rose to the sky as feet, crutches and sometimes crudely fashioned prosthetics marched in unison, all worried for their survival above anything else. Everyone had some kind of container in their arms, if not multiple containers - Everything from plastic and metal jugs to pots and pans. They were like puppets, all twitching under the hands of one master, strings made of water being firmly wrenched around their joints. They navigated around sloppily crafted houses, tents and anything else that could shelter a person and their family.

Dingo's fiery eyelashes fluttered as he awoke and slowly uncurled his contorted form, stretching himself across the huge, cracked tire he was so used to sleeping in. The commotion and countless cries of the ever-moving crowd drew his attention, and he slowly rose from his favourite resting place, shaking the dust and sand off his arms. Putting one bare foot before the other, he was soon intermingled with the crowd, squeezing in between rag-clad silhouettes; poor excuses for people. He was born here, he grew up here and he was going to die here. No, he didn't live. He didn't exist. He just...was. 

The commotion stopped suddenly, every muscle, every finger freezing, every eye opening as wide as vast wasteland sky. Every last gaze in the crowd was centered on the mouth of the citadel, where four men stood. Dingo rarely looked at people's faces, he rarely even looked up at all. There was no point in cringing internally at whatever toothless, blight-covered abomination spoke or interacted with him. Plus, he had long forgotten what it was like to act as a person, he was, as his name suggests, a dog, nothing more. A little, yellow, bug eyed dog that guarded the house and barked at strangers. Yet, today, he made the fatal mistake of raising his glossy grey eyes at the four men standing above the crowd. 

It was then, that time itself stopped. 

It was as though everything was moving in slow motion, if barely moving at all. His attention was drawn to the man standing left of the Immortan, his eyes squinting desperately to examine every feature of that man: smooth, orangey skin, a beautiful, well shaped chest that was covered with nothing but a necklace, adorned with what looked like white circles. Not to mention that the man was incredibly well built and taller than any person Dingo had ever seen…

Before dingo knew it, his eyes were frantically scanning the crowd and his teeth were sunk deep into his pale forearm (it was a nervous habit of his). Clothing-like scraps, collected over many years and sown together by him and his sisters covered most of his skin, excluding his forearms and feet. If he hated anything, it was covering his feet. Feet were partly the reason he never looked at people's faces - he could often guess their true intention by their footing. His own feet gave him traction, friction and more speed, hence, he refused to ever cover them.

Aha! A messy haired, balding woman (or man?) just a few paces to his right held a pair of those- those glass metal tubes that make you see farther. In a moment's notice, Dingo's fingers were already firmly wrapped in whatever was left of the woman's hair, his legs coiled around the woman's body, and his free hand peeling the metal class tubes straight from her hand, weakened by shock and surprise.

Just as suddenly, Dingo was already gone, having slithered back in between the members of the crowd. Finding safety between a large rock and an absent-faced onlooker, being far away from the cursing, screaming woman, Dingo greedily pressed the metal glass tubes to his eyes, and stared intensely upwards.

He could hear his very own violently beating heart and felt his arm bending and tearing under the power of his jaw. Again, he bit his flesh and studied the tall, gorgeous human being that stood at the mouth. 

It was as if a bunch of those flying creatures that often gathered around candles and kerosene lamps at night suddenly hatched and began to fly and bump around in his stomach. 

The man was even more gorgeous up close: oh the beautiful, shapely brows, the unbroken straight nose and...and what looked like a jaw strap, accentuating the man's chiseled jawline. His neck was long and his shoulders - oh so broad. Not to mention a necklace with little heads hung loosely around his tight, strong chest. Dingo bit deeper into his forearm. He didn't even notice the flow of the water and the frantic raving of the people around him, pushing and clawing at each other to collect whatever drop they could. To dingo's dismay, the four men at the mouth of the citadel turned and disappeared from view. A small cry escaped the gritted teeth of the young man, as he lowered the metal tubes and began nursing the wound he created in this forearm. Weakened and perplexed, he hastily made his way back to his tire - his own personal sanctuary. 

Dingo bit the tire for every question that his brain could cook up: what were those creatures flying around inside him? What was that insatiable warmth he felt in his chest and why did his heart beat so fast? Did he have yellow fever? Was he dreaming? Hallucinating? 

His disorganized thoughts were soon interrupted by a sharp kick to the ribs. His mother and sisters were back, and they had jugs of water on their backs and in their arms. One of his sisters had her arm bent and tied in a makeshift cast - probably a casualty brought on by the commotion. Every water day, people got hurt, people got trampled and people got killed. Such was the life of the wretched after all. 

"Didn't see ya helpin' s'out, lazy bitch." Dingo's mother was angry at him, and another sharp kick to the ribs confirmed her displeasure: "Sleepin' t'side least keep th'house safe!" Yes, Dingo's name gave away exactly who he was and what he was supposed to do: bark at passers-by and guard the scrap metal shack that his mother referred to as the house.

Dingo was seldom allowed inside, not that he had any desire to go inside in the first place. Furthermore, he almost never talked and preferred to growl or cry out instead; his name was almost a self-fulfilling prophecy. Dingo didn't look at his mother, he simply lowered his gaze and bit his scar-covered forearm yet another time, indicating that he was sorry.

After seeing that his family went into the house, Dingo retreated back to his burning questions about the magnificent sight he had seen. Hesitantly, he unravelled the carefully wrapped spiral of cloth around his head, letting a cascade of long, sandy-orange hair fall past his shoulders and gently touch his lower back and his elbows: His hair was his mane and one of the only valuable things he owned. As he lifted his hand in order to crudely brush it, untangling the sweaty knots. Dingo closed his eyes, imagining the unthinkable: that man...stroking his hair…

His eyes closed as he drew the scene in his mind: the man's smooth strong fingers carefully caressing his mane. Dingo began to feel warm, in his chest and in his belly and...

Ah! Dingo lunged himself off his tire and almost made it for the metal fence in an exaggerated startled daze as he noticed his sister bringing him a metal bowl of water. She rolled her eyes and placed the bowl next to the tire. It was just the family dog after all...mother gave birth to eight girls and a dog. Nobody paid Dingo much mind, of course the girls had to be inside the house. They all had short hair. They all had their faces covered with rags. It was for their own good that they hid themselves - one wrong step and the family would have another mouth to feed. 

Dingo returned to his place and picked up the bowl, hungrily bringing it to his mouth. One could easily tell that it was *his* bowl. It had dents all over the rims, little bite marks for when he would hungrily pull it from his sisters' hands. 

Dingo drank and thought. Soon, he was asleep, curled up in his tire, dreaming the hottest, most sinful dreams he's ever dreamed.

All the fantasies he had of catching and eating the neighboring family's child did not compare to what he saw in his twisted mind. He saw compassion, embraces and...and soft, gentle licks instead of bites. This type of feeling must have had a word, but the word was lost to him and to the wasteland. But, there must have been a word nevertheless...there must have been a word for the warmth he felt in his chest and in his loins. 

It was the dead of night as Dingo awoke, feeling a warmth deep under his patched, discolored pants. He must have had to go to the bathroom…Rising lazily from his tire, Dingo pulled his pants down only to realize that not only was his penis hard, but there was that white, sticky water that would sometimes come out at night. Dingo shifted his head from side to side, looking for anyone who may have seen him; alas, it was pitch black, and it seemed like the entire settlement of the wretched was dead. 

The young man leant down to his tire, and curled back up inside it, gently bucking his hips in order to get the friction he so desperately wanted to relieve himself of the hardness. As he gently slid his penis back and forth along the fabric of his pants, he let out soft whimpers, the image of the beautiful man in the citadel coming to him yet again. 

More white water shot out almost instantly, as Dingo had his teeth firmly grounded in the rubber of the tire, and one arm around his throbbing cock, while the other was poised on his hip. All fell silent once again. His own meager arms wrapped around his body, his hair meticulously tied and wrapped with a long piece of fabric, and his legs bent under him, Dingo drifted once again into the colourful land of his thoughts and fantasies.

What was the name of the beautiful man? How many breeders did he have? Surely he must have had lineups if not crowds of young fertile ladies just itching to rip off what little clothes he wore. Of course he would never look at a wretch such as Dingo, hell, even Dingo himself didn't know what he looked like. His hair was the colour of the wasteland and that's all he knew. Again, Dingo whimpered in dismay, the pleasure seeping away and reality hitting him harder than his mother ever could. He would never be up there, wrapped in the strong, tight arms of that perfect human being. Never. 

For probably the first time since birth, Dingo cried, he wept bitterly, not knowing how to make the heartache cease. For the first time, Dingo felt like he was more than a dog, for the first time, he felt as though his meaningless existence wasn't quite as meaningless. Something was born inside him, something he couldn't understand even though he'd thought he'd seen all there was to see. For the last time, he shifted his graceful form, tucking his head into the rims of the tire. He slept.

Unbeknownst to him, someone *was* watching. Someone he couldn't have seen even if he tried. The soft feminine whimpers of a pale, healthy looking long haired beauty brought on unnecessary attention. 

Two silhouettes sat still as rocks in the underbrush just behind the metal fence, carefully eyeing the curled up young person, fluttering their fiery lashes in a violent vortex of pleasurable, chaotic dreams.


	2. The big yellow square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo is suddenly kidnapped in the night. An unexpected development leads him to an unfamiliar yellow square.

Many days have gone by since Dingo's strange experience. He didn't know how many exactly, all he knew was that he would now sleep at a different angle, having one eye constantly focused on the mouth of the citadel, waiting for any commotion - any sign of life. He wanted the feeling to come back, that hot, heavy feeling inside his core and the flying creatures that would tear him apart from the inside. 

If ever he did see movement up there, he would be on the roof of his home at a moment's notice, the metal glass tubes placed firmly to his eyes, his forearm in his mouth. 

On water days, he would be at the very front of the crowd. People looked at him like he was completely off his rockers for standing at the front with no container or jug. But Dingo didn't care. He wanted to see that perfect human being again and again. That's all he could think about.

At night, he would wait until all motion died down and every last light was extinguished before coiling his meager hand around his cock and gently rubbing it, thinking about the unspeakable acts he wanted to do to that man. Moans would trickle down his lips, and he would even cry out, the horrible realization that he could never climb up there, to that man, weighing him down like a 50 ton boulder.

He's seen quite a bit when it came to people releasing their sexual tensions in and around the settlement. A day not so long ago would come to mind when he saw a horribly scarred and bleeding young woman, clawing at a man, trying to knock him away from her. Alas, she was helpless, and soon her face was buried in the dusty ground in a grim acceptance of her fate. Dingo remembered the sounds she made when her flesh stretched around the man's penis and how she cursed through her teeth at him. 

Dingo wanted the same. He wanted it to he just like that. He didn't know any other means of having sex other than to severely beat, disarm and overtake your target before violating it to valhalla and back. Dingo wanted the perfect man to do that to him. He wanted to be held down, strangled, torn to pieces and fucked like the wretched dog that he was. 

And yet, after that fateful water day, things were somehow...different. Dingo didn't understand what it was - the colours, ugly as they were, became somehow more vibrant, more lively. When his mother kicked him, he felt something he'd never felt before: he felt bad. And worst of all, he felt like something was missing. Something somewhere wasn't in the place that it should have been and it tore Dingo apart to no end that he couldn't even begin to understand what these feelings meant. 

"Why're you so quiet?" the voice of his sister yanked him out of his inner world. He turned his head, never looking at her face of course. Honestly speaking, he didn't even know the difference between them because he didn't like looking at them. He didn't like how they behaved, how they walked - their stances were always so aggressive, at least in his opinion. 

Dingo frowned and groaned softly, closing his eyes and laying his chin down onto the tire. He didn't speak with them - after the accident he didn't speak at all. 

What accident might you ask? Dingo wouldn't argue or barter. If he didn't like something, he showed it with his teeth. After fighting with one of his sisters over a morsel of food and biting her nose off, he didn't speak to any of them. He might have been lucky to be allowed around the house afterwards but he grew distant following that incident. He would often retreat into his own mind and live in his own little world, neatly wrapped with a nice round tire. His tire was basically his whole world, his only friend and one creature that didn't scream or fight back when he bit at it. And he *needed* to bite. It was the only way he could express himself. 

Night soon fell on the settlement of the wretched. Dingo heard the sound of vehicles somewhere in the distance - possibly the immortan's private army coming back from a raid. Sometimes at night, when all was dark and horrible, he heard faint cheering and singing. Maybe the men on the citadel were celebrating, drinking water and...and smiling. Dingo would smile too, he would close his eyes and imagined being happy with them. He couldn't remember a time when he was truly happy, he'd probably even forgotten how to smile. He didn't know if he could smile or not because he's never seen his own face. 

Curling up in his tire, Dingo did something he's never done before. He whispered to himself: "You sleeping?" He asked quietly, stroking his tire with the gentlest of caresses. "Dream of you...Always of you." Dingo was amused at the sound of his own voice, he seldom to never heard his own words. Usually he had trouble speaking but the words just trickled down his lips so smoothly, as if he really was talking to someone beside him. But alas, there was nobody there, and it hurt from the inside. The creatures inside him must have been eating at his chest because he felt pain there. It was a different kind of pain. He couldn't quite explain in his own mind what kind of horrible pain it was. He realized then that he was alone, that he was alone for his entire life and this knowledge will eat at him until he dies. 

Curled up as tightly as possible, he closed his eyes and slept yet again.

"Now what kind of idiot family would even leave this out in the open?" 

The sharp sound of an unknown voice awoke Dingo. Another realization hit him just as suddenly - he was curled up in...in some kind of cloth. And he couldn't move his arms or legs. Instinct told him to kick violently at whatever trap he was in, but it didn't do much good.

"Look, she's kicking! Hah! Must be a healthy one."

The sound of yet another voice worried Dingo. He realized he was in some sort of cloth sack. Before he knew it, he was already biting at the sack, and yet the fabric was too tightly woven. He couldn't do any damage to it! Dingo's heart raced and he kicked more violently in a futile attempt to find a way out. He couldn't. He was trapped. Someone was carrying him somewhere and he guessed this was the last time he would he able to think before his captor would chop him to pieces and eat him. 

Another bitter realization hit Dingo. He would die never even knowing the name of the perfect human. He would never see that beautiful form again, standing strong at the mouth of the citadel. Dingo wailed, he wailed like a dying animal and a dying animal he was. 

It felt like days, years have passed before the ever present silence was finally broken. The sack opened suddenly, and with no warning, Dingo fell to the ground in an unfamiliar place. 

The light hit his eyes as sharply as his mother would kick his ribs when he slept too long. Slowly, he began to take in his surroundings: It was a stone coloured...place, with metal objects sprawled across a series of metal tables. There was a man looking at him from above, wearing some kind of weird contraption on his head and tiny metal sticks stuck out of the pockets that lined his garment. Before Dingo could figure anything else out, strong arms picked him up. In his shock, he was bound to a stone table of some sort. Well yes, they'll cut me up and eat me. I prepared for this, he thought. He simply closed his eyes. 

-So how much will you trade us for her. Guaranteed health and fertility - just look at her gorgeous long hair. No part of her is even damaged at all. We've been watching her for months - no sign of disease or anything. And she might even be a virgin.  
-Well f-first i'll take a closer look at her, and th-then I'll d-d-discuss rewards. 

Dingo felt his legs being violently forced open, and a sharp blade gliding along the hem of his pant. Damn it! It took him two years to make that pant and now someone's just going to cut it? What an insult. Dingo's eyes shot open to see the man with the contraption curiously bending down to look at him before erupting in horrid, spastic laughter.

-Wh-wh-who do you t-take me for?! A r-retard?

He laughed even harder.

-If you c-can't tell a d-dick from a v-va...pussy, then I d-don't know what to t-tell you. 

Dingo was again, horribly confused. Was he mistaken for a girl? Was he kidnapped under the pretense that he was a girl? And these two men tried to trade him?! He didn't know how to react. Immediately, his eyes darted to the corner of the room as he heard yet another voice, a deep, strong, beautiful voice. 

-Can I keep it? 

Dingo's eyes would have rolled out of his sockets and his heart would have jumped out of his chest. The man, the perfect human himself was there. And he was talking. Somehow, Dingo felt his insides melting. Nothing made sense. Maybe he was suffering a horrible case of hallucinations and he was in his tire this whole time. He really didn't know at this point. Meanwhile, the man with the contraption spoke.

-Rictus, d-did you b-br-break your other t-toy al-already?   
-Yes. And that one looks shiny.  
-F-fine. T-take it. 

Just as quickly as Dingo ended up on the stone table, he was lifted from it, and was thrown across a strong, warm shoulder. The perfect human, named Rictus, was carrying him somewhere. The perfect human himself was holding him, gripping his legs for support, stepping firmly into the dimly lit stone corridors. Many walls, oil lamps and sometimes torches passed by Dingo's vacant eyes. He was overloaded with emotions and questions. And what's worse, the warmth, the creatures inside him and the tightness in his chest and belly were stronger than ever.

Somewhere, a door was opened, and Dingo saw a room, a big room with naked grey walls. A strange shiny piece of glass, or was it metal? Stood tilted against one of the walls. There was something in the middle of the room, some kind of big, yellow object. It looked like a big cloth covered most of it - he could barely make the details out since the room possessed one kerosene lamp. Just as suddenly, the door closed, and Dingo fell. He braced himself for the hard, unforgiving ground but...but it wasn't hard! It was soft! The big yellow object was softer than the rubber of his tire! 

Hands still bound, Dingo rolled onto his back, grey eyes looking in awe. In this dim light, the man was even more beautiful. Rictus, was even more beautiful. 

Dingo's heart raced faster than an interceptor under the desert sun. The bigger man put one knee on the soft yellow surface, and firmly spread Dingo's legs once again with his hands. Dingo's pants had already been cut off - he only had a tattered and patched grey shirt to his name. Suddenly, he felt his ass cheeks being spread, and something cool and moist being spread all around his hole. Dingo whimpered involuntarily at the touch - it felt...new. Without warning, he felt that same hole being stretched. Horribly stretched. Dingo gritted his teeth and let out a low growl. It hurt - the perfect human was making him hurt. But...but it was what he fantasized about, it's what he wanted. 

Dingo felt horribly full, as the entire cock of the larger man filled his tight hole, touching places inside him he didn't know existed. Dingo didn't fight back, he didn't know what to do or what was being done to him. 

Meanwhile, the larger man began rhythmically bucking his hips, going in and out of Dingo, putting a hand on the young man's arm for support as he leant closer. Dingo was in serious pain, yet the warmth and tingling inside him overpowered every bit of that pain. A place inside him was prodded by Rictus' big cock, and Dingo let go of a soft, delicate noise. A pleasure-filled little moan. 

It all felt so natural to him. He moaned, tilting his head back and grabbing hold of the cloth under his bound hands. He writhed, turning his head from side to side. And that's when a word escaped his lips: "M-more!", he cried out, surprised that his desires were talking for him. He didn't even say that when he wanted more food. "Please! So g-good!" the young man cried out. 

His pleas were returned with a much more violent thrusting of the big cock. Soon, Rictus had the young man wrapped in his arms, supporting his head, and licking his neck with a broad tongue. Dingo bit his lip, as he felt this wonderful, strong, perfect man deeper and deeper inside him. He felt his own cock hardening and being caught in between his and his partner's bellies. It was just the right type of friction. It felt so so heavenly. Like he was being lifted closer and closer to valhalla with each thrust. 

Rictus' thrusts became harder, faster, his grip tightened, and Dingo cried out, releasing white water across his belly and chest. All spent, he slumped his head into the big man's hand and did the unthinkable. In that moment, they made eye contact, and Dingo smiled. He gave the warmest most welcoming smile. Rictus himself grunted, filling the young man with what Dingo presumed to be his own white water. Dingo felt warmth deep inside him. It felt amazing. He had completely forgotten how much the stretching of his hole around the man's cock hurt. Unbeknownst to him, he was even bleeding at the rim of it.

Now tired, spent and still confused, Dingo couldn't understand what had transpired. He was sleeping in his tire at one moment and was in bed with the centre of his desires in the next. He spoke crudely: "Th-thank you. Please more. Tomorrow." 

Rictus seemed surprised, his eyes reflected a hint of confusion and disbelief. Dingo didn't know why the beautiful man looked at him this way, but he knew that he wanted to secure this for himself. He liked this soft yellow square, this room, and just being here. Alone with Rictus. 

Dingo felt the cold touching his chest as Rictus lifted himself up, seemingly deep in thought, and stood at the foot of the square, lifting a heavy belt and pants back onto himself, before picking Dingo up, and carrying him off once again. In a dreamy state, the young man was carried through a series of tunnels, until he saw a big cavern. Dingo took in his surroundings as he was placed on the floor, his arms unbound and a metal collar being snapped shut around his neck. There were three women dressed in the whitest of white watching silently from the other side of the massive cavern. Rictus grunted and left without saying a word. Dingo was pleased, puzzled but pleased. It just have been weird to be sitting pantless with a collar around his neck. Bringing his hand up to the collar, he felt that there was a chain on it, a chain that lead to the wall. Guess he was placed there for safety. Dingo could barely keep his eyes open - it was the dead of night after all. 

Usually, Dingo would be internally discussing questions with himself, but he was much too worn out to formulate any sort of coherent thought in his mind.

Tired and spent, Dingo slept soundly on the floor of the unfamiliar place.


	3. Valkyrie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo assumes he is dead. He learns a new word.

Colours swirled and flew around him creating complicated perfect whirls, filling his eyes with immense polychromatic lights. They almost looked like tires - vibrant translucent tires. 

He always found circles pleasing to the eyes. Round objects were so pretty, so perfect and so smooth. You could never cut yourself and spill your blood over something round, and that's why circles were safer than any other shape. No points, no corners, just a delicate round form.

It felt good to bury his feet in the warm desert sands below him, feel every grain gently caress his toes. Onward, just above the horizon, there were lights and wheels and spheres. Colours spiralled back and forth, changing tones and falling onto his face like the white ashes of a bonfire. 

And there was a sound, a strange strange sound that felt like valhalla itself opened up to him. 

Dingo awoke, feeling like he was still in his dream. But he was definitely conscious now, he knew that he had come to his senses. 

A padlocked collar was around his neck, his grey shirt...Wait! There was no grey shirt! His chest was completely bare, but...but he was covered in a fluffy white cloth! Carefully lifting the cloth, he observed that he was wearing what looked like small white shorts. Like a lightning strike, he jolted back suddenly, nearly hitting his head against the wall - the sound from his dream, it was still there! It sounded like someone was banging on a series of metal pots, and the pots all made different noises, pleasantly different noises. It all came togerher so melodically, so perfectly. It was...there was a word for how it sounded. There must have also been a word for what the sound was. Dingo hated being in a situation where he felt something but didn't know the word. Relaxing, he lay back against the stone wall, trying to take in the magnificent sound with every fiber of his being.

Two grey-blue eyes slowly scanned the massive stone room, while his mind caught up to him, bringing back the previous night's wild adventure. In fact, the sounds he heard went very well with what floated to the surface of his mind - the very object of his burning hot desires came to him, picked him up and mated with him. He must have done good to the witch doctor lady on the south side of the wretched settlement if she was the one who blessed him like this. Dingo couldn't rationalise in any other way what he could have possibly done to deserve something so amazing. 

A thought sparked across the flow of his smooth thoughts: will Rictus come back, though, to mate with him again? 

Dingo hoped so, but he wished he could offer more than just laying there and taking it. He wanted to show that he was thankful...but how? The wasteland didn't have any rules but one: If you recieve something, you must give something back, too. Dingo didn't know what he could offer, other than himself, to that perfect man who blessed a wretched dog like Dingo with his glowing presence. 

His gaze travelled to the top of the cavern, where there was a big hole, covered by bars. The sunlight trickled through and lay in thick yellow strokes on the brown-grey floor. Otherwise, the room was empty, barren of any defining features. He examined the walls of the room - there were a few entrances. Maybe the sound was coming from one of them? Was it even a real sound? It was nothing like he'd ever heard before. 

Dingo wasn't even surprised when he saw an old woman, dressed in white just like the ladies he's seen the previous night emerge from one of the entrances. She looked dried up and was covered in dark lines - must have been tattoos. 

As she approached, Dingo's feral instincts kicked in and he retreated farther into the white cloth, biting his forearm. He could see that the woman came closer, placing two white bowls in front of him, close enough for him to reach them, but far enough that he couldn't reach *her*. She then, carefully, never taking her eyes off the shaking, hairy mess in front of her, took a step back and made her way to the entrance she came from. 

Now, added to the surreal noise, there was a decadently pleasant smell. A scent was coming from the bowls. Dingo carefully inspected the bowls, noting how smooth and clean they looked. Not a single crack or chip could be seen on their surface. The young man leant closer, finding that one bowl had a brown oval, and some kind of yellowish white porridge with green circles. The other bowl...was empty? No, it wasn't empty, but the liquid inside was so white that it blended with the bowl. 

Cautiously, Dingo picked up the bowl of liquid and tasted it. It felt thicker than water, and a little bit sweet. He then picked up the brown oval - it was hard between his teeth but had a soft light brown center. 

The porridge didn't taste like porridge, it was much more salty and pleasing to the tongue. 

Dingo wolfed everything down ferociously, because it simply tasted too good for him to slow down. Seeing that the bowls were licked clean, the now full and happy young man sat back, wrapping the white fluffy cloth around himself.

What if he was already dead and this was valhalla food? He couldn't understand why he was receiving so many wonderful things. He couldn't even begin to wrap his mind around how he was in a tire at one moment, and in a cavern eating delicious grub in the next. Sated, he barely reacted to the sound of voices coming from one of the entrances, and the melodic sound stopping. 

"You should always have it done this way! How did I not think of this before?" A soft woman's voice and the sound of giggling filled the big room as two women clad in white emerged from a side entrance into the massive cavern. 

One of them had short dark hair, and was, herself, rather short. The other had long white hair that was woven into a complex braid. The dark haired one exclaimed: "It looks absolutely beautiful!" Marvelling at how the golden, almost white hair sparkled in the white light from above. 

The way she said it, and the way the hair looked made Dingo realize something. That sound, it must have also been "beautiful". And the perfect human being who he mated with that night was "beautiful" too. 

Not taking his grey eyes off the women, who casually strolled by him, he opened his mouth and whispered:"...bu...beautiful." Yes, that's what he was going to tell that man the next time they mated. 

The women were obviously looking at him from the corners of their eyes and were whispering amongst each other. 

Finally, the blonde haired one approached Dingo with the most relaxed footing he's ever seen. Clearly, she meant no harm to him. 

That's when he realized that...oh skies above! Lovely food, women dressed in white...it was just like the legends. He *was* in valhalla and those were valkyries. He *was* dead. Dingo's eyes widened in fear. A fearful, cowardly whimper escaped his lips, as he bit down hard into his forearm and tearfully yanked the chain attached to him.

"Who killed Dingo?!" He screamed, eyes full of fear, to the valkyrie standing before him. "How I died?" They had to at least tell him that part, right? 

The woman stepped back, slightly confused:"Are you alright?" she asked, tipping her head to the side. Dingo didn't answer her question. He didn't know what to answer, so he asked the biggest, most burning question he had:"I am dead...at Valhalla?"

The woman chuckled. "No, sweet boy, you're on the citadel. This is the vault where breeders like us are kept." 

Breeder? Dingo was a breeder? He was put there to have offspring? How? 

...More importantly, with who?!

All that Dingo could offer was a crusty "Why…"  
The woman gave a weird half-smile, almost melancholically: "Because someone decided that you're gonna be their possession, and you just have to accept it." 

Dingo looked down at the collar around his neck. He was a possession? A possession of Rictus perhaps? That made him feel warm inside. He figured that this lady would at least know what's going on here. He picked up the empty white bowls and lifted them to show her: "What was...bowl food?" 

The lady looked at him with amusement: "Today it was rice and peas. Probably miss Giddy put a bun in there for you as well..." She looked at the bowls one more time: "And the drink was either milk or water." 

So there was a bun, there was rice and peas. Dingo likes how all those things sounded. And milk. The white stuff was milk. He wished he could share that meal with the tall and "beautiful" Rictus though. That would have been even more amazing than merely filling his own belly. 

Meanwhile the woman bent down to him, and the black haired one approached close behind. The blonde almost looked like she wanted to stroke Dingo's long, voluninous hair, it looked like she felt sorry for him somehow. But maybe his analysis was wrong. 

The woman's voice sounded cheerful, in a forced way: "What's your name, sweet child. And where did they buy you? Or were you captured from a raid?" 

Dingo was almost never asked his name. He had almost forgotten it himself. He looked up at her and gently bit into his arm in thought, before speaking: "Dingo...from wretched." The two women exchanged glances. The blonde spoke up after a lengthy pause: "Nice to meet you, Dingo. I'm Dag, and she's Toast." She brought her hand forth. Dingo didn't understand why she brought her hand to him. 

He looked at it, and then, bringing his head closer, he smelled it. Dag awkwardly withdrew her hand and linked it with the hand of Toast.  
It seemed like an affectionate gesture. Dingo took note of that - that you're supposed to hold the hand of the person you're familiar with. 

As the women turned around, Dingo yanked the chain on his collar to alert them. He came up with a sudden question. The two women stopped, obviously startled, and turned around almost simultaneously. Dingo spoke: "Dag, Toad, wait. What bee..bu..b-beautiful means?" he did his best to articulate the new word. 

The dark haired woman, who Dingo just called "Toad" hid her smirk, taking his mistake light-heartedly. But Dingo meant what he said - she kind of looked like a toad. Her nose was wide and her skin looked...looked like it was clean but dirty. He couldn't quite explain it. Dag took a moment to contemplate before answering the question: "Beautiful is like...something pretty. Something that looks really good to your eyes." She realized the young man didn't talk well, so she explained as simple as she could. So "beautiful" did mean what Dingo thought it meant. Excellent, he would be able to put that word into practice very soon. But he decided to try it once on the blonde woman, just to be safe: "Your hair beautiful." Dingo said, innocently, pointing at her complicatedly woven braids. 

The women just smiled and turned around, casually leading her companion by the hand and going into another entrance, disappearing from sight. 

Faint voices could be heard in one of the entrances, perhaps there were more women there, all laughing about...stuff that women laugh about. Dingo didn't know why, but they kind of reminded him of his sisters, they also knew everything and looked exactly the same except for their hair. At least to him they did. A dog recognizes owners after all, not strangers. 

Dingo could barely stand up due to the chain, binding him to the wall. He noticed that there was a metal bucket just within his reach. He may have noticed it before, but didn't give it much significance. He didn't like chewing metal, but did so anyway, creating little dents on the shiny surface. Unbeknownst to him, the bucket was placed there with a completely different intention, but Dingo was unaware. He simply chewed on it and thought. 

He had an owner now, based on what Dag told him. He's not dead (although he would periodically check if he felt pain or not, by biting is forearm) and he was expected to breed with someone. He wasn't sure how that worked between two men, unless the male anatomy had hidden capabilities that he wasn't aware of…

Drat! He forgot to ask the woman about the noise he heard, and about the mysterious feeling he had gotten weeks back, where his chest would feel hot and there would be creatures flying around in his abdomen. He would remember this and ask later, at least he hoped he would. These women looked like they knew more than him.

There was something unsettling about them, however. They seemed sad, yet hiding their sadness. They were in peak physical condition, they were fed and clothed and yet they seemed sad. Perhaps there was something more sinister present here?


	4. Reflective metal square

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo is forced to show his feelings and discovers yet another marvellous object he's never seen before.

Hours must have passed as Dingo sat, content, letting the inner workings of the small underground chamber pass him by. More women clad in white would come to and fro, barely exciting his vacant gaze. For the first time in his life, Dingo didn't face imminent danger. 

If someone tied him down to the wall of his mother's shack, he would he dead the next day with a ruptured rectum and missing limbs. However, it seemed safe here, it was like his own personal Valhalla had been bestowed upon him for unknown deeds. 

It was then that the woman who he knew as Toad, and another he didn't recognize approached him again. They were either going to feed him or ask him more questions. The unknown woman took a step forward, just out of his reach, and knelt down to look at him. Dingo, in turn, didn't raise his eyes as that was his usual habit, he simply further buried himself in the white cloth, letting his long sandy hair gently caress the fibers of the large cover. 

"Do you know why they're keeping young boys on the citadel now? Are you a breeder for a female im-" 

The woman stopped mid sentence and her eyes froze in shock, locked on an entrance in the far corner of the cavern, just out of Dingo's view. As a strange sense of fear and dread filled the air, the young man became alert and shot up, scanning his surroundings. He saw the women slowly back away as a large, muscular figure emerged out of nowhere and approached Dingo with firm, confident steps. 

Dingo's eyes filled with light, and his heart with intense warmth as he realized that the perfect human had come to visit him, and was heading straight for him. He lowered his head in obedience and knelt, feeling strong hands playing with the latch on his collar. Soon, his bindings were popped open and he was once again tossed over a strong warm shoulder and carried across a network of cryptic inner corridors and outer bridges. He was brought to the same room as the day before - the same big piece of metal leant against the wall and the big yellow square lay invitingly in the middle of the room. It wasn't dark in the room, and Dingo made out some more details, like elaborate black lines in the shapes of what looked like deformed humans on the grey walls as well as other symbols he didn't recognize. He could have sworn he's seen some of those symbols before when scavenging old wrecks and metal debris far from his home.

The young man, having only small white shorts to cover his skin, was gently placed on the corner of the soft square, where he sat down. Aha! In the midst of all his anxiety, Dingo remembered his plan for earlier. He looked up - something he seldom did with people - and took a good look at Rictus. The man stood tall, staring Dingo down. Was he admiring his new toy? 

"Hey...R-Rictus?" Dingo uttered with uncertainty. The tall man seemed surprised once again and leant down, pulling himself closer to his toy. Dingo didn't hesitate. For a moment, he did something he has never done in the history of his existence. He made eye contact. The man...his eyes were orangey brown! They complimented his skin so well! "You...are" Shakingly, Dingo put his hand on the man's shoulder: "Beautiful." 

There was a long pause. Both were trying to digest what was happening. Dingo mustered up the courage to repeat himself: "You are beautiful." He said with a louder more confident tone. 

The man made made a weird grimace. It was some kind of strange melange of happiness and sadness. Dingo felt sorry. He didn't mean to offend! He quickly began to formulate a plan for how he would apologize when...when he realized that the man's face was directly in front of his, staring directly into his grey eyes. It was at a moment's notice that Dingo was pinned to the soft yellow surface, strong arms wrapped firmly around his arms and chest. 

"Why'd you say that?" It was the first time Rictus spoke to him. "My toys don't speak." 

Dingo didn't understand. Maybe it was wrong of him to say anything. Maybe it wasn't acceptable in the culture of those close to the Immortan. "Won't speak again. Sorry." Dingo muttered, pressing his forehead to the man's chest in a pitiful attempt to show submissiveness. 

"No. Tell me how you feel." Spoke the man, grabbing Dingo by the hair and firmly pulling his head up, so that he would again be looking at Rictus. 

Dingo paused, carefully choosing from his limited supply of words. "Safe. Happy…" Dingo paused, trying best to describe the warm, scorching pleasure boiling within him at just the mere sight of that perfect human being. "...Warm inside. For Rictus." Dingo gave the purest stare that he could muster and curled the corners of his mouth into a smile. 

It was then that he felt a tongue gently trace along the side of his face, stopping at his smooth pale neck. He felt gently nips along the skin. It excited him, the blood in his loins boiling and his cock getting hard, pressing against the fabric of the shorts. Suddenly, Dingo was lifted again and carried towards the metal square, where Rictus gently sat cross legged, placing his toy in his lap. Dingo looked into the metal and realized there was an image there - that of a young man, smooth pale skin and delicate facial features. Thin yellow brows arched over big grey eyes. The image moved as he moved, and stood still when he stood still, with the form of the strong, muscular man looming behind him, a large hand wrapping around his wrist. 

"Show me, how do you feel." Dingo saw one hand pulling down his waistband, exposing his small cock, just as pale as Dingo himself; a soft pink tip could also be seen, weeping clear fluid. The other hand nudged the young man's hand to touch it - to touch himself.   
Dingo saw his face turning red in the reflective metal. He wasn't sure if he could please himself with someone watching. He felt nervous once again, like it was wrong of him to do something so private. But it was for Rictus, it was for the man he so desperately wanted at his side. 

Unsure of himself, Dingo wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly rubbing it down and up. He picked up the speed, each motion of his arm echoing a shallow sharp breath from his nose. It was his tipping point when he once again felt a large hand wrapped around his meager pale hand, helping him to please himself. Together, they gave Dingo an experience like no other. Soft, tender moans escaped his lips as his back arched and his head fell back on the man's shoulder. His chest was exposed in the reflection, Rictus could see everything. With a soft whimper, Dingo came apart, shooting white fluid all over his own chest and belly. 

His eyes travelled back to the reflection, observing his red cheeks and stained pale chest. He felt embarrassed and hid his gaze, before a hand buried itself in his hair and forced him to look up. He could see both of their faces reflecting, their eyes shining in the dim rays of light coming from a single barred window. 

"Beautiful…" Dingo muttered, staring at his partner for approval. "We are beautiful."


	5. Concrete pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dingo learns the luxury of bathing

Dingo was lifted and carried off once again. His disappointment seeped through his lips in a low groan because he didn't want to go back to the vault. He wanted to spend more time with the man who captivated his heart. Hell, Dingo captivated his own heart after seeing his reflection - No wonder he was confused for a girl and kidnapped. 

It was just as big a surprise when he was carefully placed back on his feet after a mere few steps. It was another room with the same grey walls but this time it had two windows, just as small and barred from the inside as the one in the previous room. A deep circular pit was carefully carved into the floor of the room, with a rusty brown pipe sticking out of the wall and extending towards the pit, hovering just over its steep edge.

Dingo was perplexed if not confused at what function such a room would have. He noticed a piece of something yellow by the edge of the pit, and upon closer examination, he noticed the pit had a small hole. There were also boulders that lay against the inner walls of it.

Dingo felt safe enough to ask what will happen to him here. He was a toy after all, and Rictus seemed to like him: "What this?" He pointed to the concrete pit in the middle of the room. Rictus looked at Dingo like he was from another planet: "Bath...Its a bath." 

Before finishing his short explanation, Rictus was already twisting the rusty pipe. That is when...water! Water came out! Dingo's eyes grew wide at this amazing display of abundance. Water was filling the pit at a rate he's never seen! Was this some kind of gift to him? Yet another heavenly gift from valhalla?   
He simply couldn't snap out of the utter dismay this sight brought him.

Now, there was one occasion among the wretched that a person would be bathed - when they are born. So the dry blood and amniotic fluid wouldn't attract unnecessary rodents and bugs. However, Dingo wasn't just born as far as he was concerned, so why was he seeing a bath?

"F-for you?" Dingo asked with uncertainty. 

"For us both." Whispered the bigger man, before pulling down Dingo's shorties, leaving the young man no choice but to inhale sharply at the unexpected coolness that blew against his privates. Dingo took a step, then another one, and submerged himself in the water, hearing a faint clank of a belt buckle behind him. 

It felt as though...as though Dingo was swimming in the very sound he heard earlier that morning. He'd never felt such a pleasant coolness caressing his entire body, from his toes to his shoulders. Silvery grey eyes gravitated to the reflections on the water - it was Dingo's beautiful face, and a large, orangey skinned form standing behind him. 

"You like this, don't you?" Dingo barely heard his partner speak before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around him once again. He felt the back of his half wet hair touch a warm chest, it made him happy even though his heart was about to rip out of his chest. He almost felt the man's heartbeat against the back of his head. He shuddered when he felt something smooth against his skin - The piece of white and yellow was now being rubbed against his skin, leaving behind a white trail and bubbles. Dingo relaxed, giving Rictus full autonomy over whatever was being done.

The young man felt water trickle down his scalp, and the white piece rub all over him. Rictus seemed to stop just around Dingo's cock - it was hard again and there was no hiding it. Gently, Rictus lifted his toy, and bent him over the edge of the pit, leaving his bum exposed. Dingo felt a sharp cry bellow in his throat as his hole was stretched once again, and the wound from the previous night was torn open. He didn't want to cry out, so he held it in, giving Rictus encouragement by moaning like this was the most pleasurable thing he's ever received. And it was. He felt his partner to harder, faster, lighting up Dingo's nerves and touching the pleasure points inside him, grinding against them with his big cock. It was amazing, once again, Dingo found himself moaning and groaning against the cold concrete floor, biting his forearm from the pleasure, pain and anxiety.

It was then that Rictus slowed down, finishing with a deep thrust. Dingo felt warmth inside him, that must have been the white water, flowing within him, making his insides hot and sticky with...ack! Dingo couldn't find the right word for it, but it felt wonderful.

Slowly, Rictus lowered him back down, and began carefully pouring water over the wound in Dingo's arm. The young man's heart froze - never did anyone nurse his wounds for him, it was almost a matter more intimate than being fucked. However, Dingo trusted that no harm would be done to him and simply submitted. He yawned and rubbed his eye, feeling a little tired and a little hungry too. 

Soon they were back on the yellow square, Dingo was drying up under a large white cloth, still nude and cold, but definitely warming up. He felt the embrace of his partner behind him - oh how amazingly wonderful it was to be cared for like this. Without another thought, Dingo turned around and returned the embrace. 

They slept in each other's arms, and the young man's mind ascended into cloudy, peaceful dreams.


End file.
